DotDotDot
by WolfyMagician
Summary: A quick sad scene between Rod and Nicky. I'm sooo sorry to them. I wish I made this kinder. Sorry, Rod, I hurt you the most...
1. Chapter 1

**_Dot-Dot-Dot..._**

...

"And you never work!" cried Rod, tears forming in his eyes. "The same reason you won't try! You're too lazy, and all you care about is yourself!"

"..." Nicky stared at his roommate, hurt, his fists balled up tightly beside him.

Rod glared, daring the other to deny what he just said. "You see? You can't say anything. You're just an ungrateful lazy, freeloading, selfish moron who can't put two and two together when it comes to understanding! Why don't you just leave and save me from wasting my life with you."

Nicky's fist opened, his shoulders slumped, mouth hanging slightly open. With wide eyes, he let his head fall. The man stared at the floor, trying to comprehend what had just happened. What had been said. 'So that's it? He thought, 'I'm nothing but that? To him at least...How long has he been thinking about this?'

Rod's breathing was heavy and loud, his shoulders still hunched. His glasses were about to slip off his sweaty nose, and he was shaking slightly. Why, there's too many reasons. Fear. Hate. Too much energy. Sadness. Quietly, he turned away, wiping the tears from his eyes as they finally fell. Nicky was the first to move. He walked around the sofa and headed for the door leading outside, away, passing by Rod so he could whisper, "I'm sorry."

Rod turned back to his roommate, his best friend, his secret love, horrified that he was about to leave. Him. Rod. Their apartment. Avenue Q... No, that couldn't happen. Rod knew what it was like without Nicky, and he had promised himself never to experience that kind of pain and torture again. He staggered quickly behind the other man, right before the door. It had never looked so scary to Rod until now. Yet, he put all his hope into it. That was the only thing keeping him from losing his life. His purpose. His heart.

Nicky heard Rod from behind him. He stopped, hesitating, before reaching for the doorknob. He could not bring himself to say anything, and he felt wetness at the corners of his eyes. Rod lifted his arm to grab Nicky by his hood, but his best friend had already disappeared. The door closed, and a broken-hearted Rod was left alone.

...

At the other side of the door, the rain is pouring, the strongest Avenue Q has seen yet. Nicky leans against that door, tears falling.

_Goodbye._

* * *

**Author's Notes: Woah. Epic. I hate myself for writing that. I don't know why I did. I was just drawing pictures of Rod and Nicky and I ended up drawing a scene where Nicky's leaving Rod for good and they're both crying. I am soo mean. I'm sorry Rod and Nicky!! _ **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Thank goodness. Avenue Q would then be filled with Rod and Nicky 'doing the nasty'..... **


	2. Chapter 2

…

Rod stared at the door with blank, unfocused eyes. The darkness surrounding him made everything seem so surreal. His mind, for the first time in his life, was empty. His feelings were numb, and his body didn't want to move from its current position: facing the door that his best friend had disappeared through with an outstretched arm trying to keep him back. But didn't. The tears had stopped the moment the door closed; Rod's breathing almost stopped completely as well. There was no motion, not a sound, while the man continued to stare into nothingness. Be in nothingness. For some reason, Rod could hear nothing clearly. The sound of everything around him was muffled greatly.

Finally, it clicked. Nicky was gone. Is gone. The moment Rod realized that, the unbearable truth, he grabbed the doorknob and frantically yanked the door open as wide as it could go.

Nothing.

The rain lessened somewhat and the fog obscured everything from view. Still, no Nicky. Rod's heart began to melt as he scanned the area. No. Leaving the door open behind him, he ran onto the deserted streets. The rain soaked him, inside and out, and his glasses were too blurry for him to see, yet Rod kept on running, searching, crying, and every now and then slipping. He still got up each time. He lost track of time as the weather became worse, but he continued to look for that lovable man. The man he had grown so attached to. The same man who had befriended him on the first day of high school when he knew no one and was so helpless. Nicky, who had stuck with him through college and, for many happy years, life. His heart belonged to that man. He belonged to him. So why did he let him go just like_ that_?

"NICKY!" Rod bellowed desperately, in no particular direction. This…couldn't be happening. Not to Rod. Why should it? "No…p-please, no!" He stopped completely. Walking. Searching. Caring. He knew Nicky was gone. He had no rational explanation, but he knew. He felt it. Rod dropped to his knees, no longer with silent tears, but real body-shaking sobs. He howled in pain and hurt, throwing his glasses to the ground. His eyes were blinded with tears anyway.

Nicky…how could you leave like this? Without even saying goodbye… "Nicky! Nicky, Nicky, _NICKY_!"

The weather seemed to reflect Rod's emotions. The rain was worse than ever and the wind blew with such force that it carried Rod's loose necktie away. He didn't care; in fact, he wished, yearned, he was the necktie. He wanted to be carried away by something, by Nicky. To a place where he didn't have to suffer without his best friend. He wanted to fall into nothingness so he didn't have to feel that ache of losing someone you truly loved with all your being. His whole body was numb now, but not so much from the cold. But…that always means that later he'll feel the real pain. Making up for the emptiness he felt now.

Rod just stayed there, in the middle of the street, right before the pouring rain, sobbing. Every part of him was wet and beyond cold. His clothes. His hair. His eyes. His heart…he…will never be warm and dry again. Never wake up happy to the sound of snoring somewhere beside him. Never laugh at the silliness he has to put up with each day. Never worry about letting his feelings slip. Never argue about the simplest thing just for the heck of it. He loved all these so much and more…so why was he realizing this just now? When it's too late…

But…he'd find him. Right? Nicky usually comes back…

No.

Not after this. Not after…

_Nicky…I love you._

_I'm sorry._

* * *

**Author's Notes: Wow, I suck at this. I don't wanna make Rod cry! Okay, so Nicky will have to even out Rod's sadness. Chapter 3 maybe? Please review! Heh. Sorry, you two again. I'll be nicer next time.**

**Disclaimer: Still owning nothing!**


	3. Chapter 3

…

"—but we just found him right now—"

"—it was really fast! I mean, we had no idea—"

"—we can't get any responses from him—"

"—but we were sent right away. We tried everything—"

"—yet he seems stable; although we can't really make any sudden—"

"OKAY, enough! Talk one at a time."

"Yes, sir."

Two metal doors burst open, creating a loud _clank_ on the walls it hit. It revealed a blinding light to those in the dimly-lit room, exposing three unrecognizable figures. They strode warily to where a small group had gathered around what appeared to be a make-shift stretcher, each person doing some sort of task. One of the figures, the tallest and most worn-out looking among the three, quickly moved to the center of the group, addressing no one in particular. "Alright. What happened? And I only need one person to explain." His voice was tired yet sharp and clear.

"He was hit by an on-coming motorcycle," another voice responded, nodding to the person lying on the stretcher. "It was really foggy and the rain was horrible…impossible to…safely…drive…"

The tall figure nodded, moving closer to the stretcher beside him. He saw a blood-stained, bruised young man with painfully shut eyes. He silently felt for a pulse on the beat-up body and was amazed to find one. But barely.

"What's his name?"

"We don't know…He had nothing on him; no I.D., no driver's license…"

The doctor-figure nodded once more, quickly assigning everyone within his shouting range a task. He himself removed a small flashlight from his pocket and began to examine the almost-lifeless body before him. He carefully poked and prodded, making an effort not to apply too much force that could possibly injure the body further. When he delicately turned the head of his 'patient' to check for more damage, the broken man groaned in pain. Immediately, the doctor began to speak to him.

"Are you alright?" He was hoping too much for an answer. He knew very well the chances were low on getting responses from a victim of a motorcycle accident. Yet…he always had to hope. Always.

As expected, he did not receive a response; save the moan of pain emitted from the bloody mouth of the victim.

"Okay, I'll do the talking…try to stay with me, please." The doctor took a breath, "I need you awake, young man…" Turning, he ordered the emergency room and his equipment for surgery to be prepared for immediate use. Everyone who heard his growl scattered around, doing as they were told. "Okay, could you tell me your name?" he asked, pushing the stretcher towards the double metallic doors. The young man lying helplessly on blood-stained shirts tried to raise his hand. However, he failed, letting it fall limply at his side. As the make-shift stretcher reached the doors, more figures pushed it open to let them through, all looking terribly shaken. The doctor glanced quickly at the victim's hand expecting to find it injured in some way. He did see some red, which he automatically assumed was blood, but found that it was just a piece of damp fabric.

"Do you want me to get that? Does it bother your hand?" the doctor wondered, reaching the elevator. He pressed hurriedly on the arrow facing down. It lit up, but the doors did not open.

"Uhm...urh…R…R-R-uh-od…"

The doctor was at his limit with the elevator as it refused to open. He was at the verge on wrenching the door in two, running a hand furiously through his now-untidy hair. However, he turned and, thinking that he needed to stall for the elevator's lack of cooperation, began to distract his patient to keep him awake. From sleeping. _Sleeping…no, can't think like that_, he thought.

"Rod. Is that your name? Rod?"

"..Rod…" The voice was weak and strained, and the poor man panted exhaustedly, gasping for breath. It was as if saying that one-syllable word took all of his strength. Inside and out. "I…I h-have…to…ow…to give…g-give….Rod…necktie…" he managed to choke out. He struggled for oxygen, clutching his stomach which seemed to be hidden by bandages. With dark, red stains on it. His pale face was filled with pain. Blood. Tears. The man had never felt this horrible before. Honestly, all he wanted was for the pain, the pain dominating his body, attacking everything inside him, his soul, to end. He had lost his heart a few moments before, anyway. So what's the use?

Just end now.

_Stop_.

"Okay, do you want me to—to take that to him? Uh, Rod?" the doctor offered distractedly, noting how strong the man's grip on that red cloth was. As if he was holding on to his life. What's left of his heart. He saw the green man's face pale considerably, making him look more like a ghost with sea-sickness than anything else…

He stopped pressing the elevator button, stopped thinking. His hand seemed to move in slow-motion as he pulled it from the marble surface and onto the green man's forehead. His eyes began to sting, but his voiced remained firm and steady. "Stay with me now. H-hey!"

The man, Nicky, was staring into nothing, his eyes focused straight ahead, as if talking to someone directly in front of him. "Rod…I…I'm so…sorry…"

"Hey! Listen, keep on talking to me! Look-look, it's, uh, Rod! Please!"

But the man, the man on the stretcher, the man who Rodney Periwinkle's heart belonged to, his best friend ever… That was the sweet, child-like innocent man that he, Rod, had fallen so madly, insanely, hopelessly in love with…his never-ending love…no…

Nicky closed his distant eyes, leaving it all. Everything. Rod included.

His grip on his former-roommate's necktie that he seemed to attached to broke. His hold on life. On Rod.

"Time of death…10:47…"

* * *

_Rod…I'm sorry…_

_Goodbye._

_I love you, too._

**…**

* * *

**Author's Note: No comment. I mean, nothing light-hearted. Trust me, this had to be revised. The first version made me cry.... I'm so sorry. To Rod and Nicky.**

**By the way, this is what I meant by getting even with Nicky for making Rod suffer too much.**

**Possible chapter 4? I have no idea right now. Maybe...**


	4. Chapter 4

_Drip-drip-drip._

The rain softly attacked the foggy window, leaving drops of water clinging onto the glassy surface. A blue hand delicately placed itself against that window, feeling the cold from outside, fog forming around the fingers. Although the rain was light, the ghostly white of the fog hid everything from view.

Rod removed his hand from the glass, staring at the deformed print that was left with the fog. He turned around slowly, his eyes examining the dark room. Everything had been a dream recently for him. All his actions seemed trance-like, as if he were in a movie and everything just had to be dramatic. The first object he saw was an old, red sofa cluttered with dusty, beat-up boxes. Yet, up until now, the boxes had been untouched. Somewhere beside the sofa was his only television set. For once in so long, it was actually off.

Looking around, Rod saw various objects covering the mostly-clean floor. He caught sight of many old mementos from his college days, like old dorm keys and several pictures that had fallen out of his photo-album. For the past few days he had been cleaning out his apartment, and, in the process, found several forgotten boxes at the back of his closet. Surprised, he had gone through the contents in each box thoroughly and had found many things that he never knew he had. Never knew their value…until now…

_Beep!_

"Ah, is it time already?" Rod wondered out loud. His voice was much different than he remembered. It was as if he was using it for the first time. Taking out his phone, he headed for the empty doorway.

_Empty._

Perhaps Rod's new favorite word, as everything in his eyes seemed that way. Empty.

As he passed the far end of the dusty sofa, he caught sight of something sticking out from between a particularly big box and the cushion. Being the neat-freak that he was, Rod stopped and grabbed the object, having had lifted the box to avoid nearly breaking it. He found the object to be a dirty, crumpled piece of paper. Curious, he smoothened out and read.

……

"Hey, Nicky! I'm here…"

Rod strode over to where his best friend was and smiled at him. Nicky was so adorable! "I'm gonna sit here, okay?"

After settling himself comfortably in the chair, the blue man looked in the direction of the large window beside his friend. The rain had gotten worse.

"Hey…remember when it rained like this, Nicky? It was so cold and…well, impossible to see anything!" Rod continued to smile at this friend, but as he gazed into that innocent green face, his smile vanished completely. Indeed, it was as if the atmosphere itself had changed, even though everything remained cold and wet.

"Nicky…remember high school? How I transferred almost halfway through the year? I was such a nerd, skipping those grades and all…" His voice was serious. Not a sense of emotion. Just blank. "You were my first friend. Huh, actually, you were my only friend. I still can't believe you even wanted to befriend a guy like me. I was a total outcast, you know. I thought— I thought that it wouldn't last. You might forget me over the summer, or realize I wasn't worth anything. But, Nicky? You never did. You were there for me _one-hundred-and-twenty-percent_. You always hung around with me. Always. And I've always been grateful for that." Rod paused. How could he possibly put his thoughts for all those wonderful experiences with Nicky into mere words? What it meant to him. What it did.

"Then—then in college..." Rod grinned at his best friend, tears in his eyes that always came at the worst time. He promised himself he wouldn't cry. Not now. "You still stayed with me. I was so thrilled when we became roommates. It was a dream for me! A fantasy…" The blue man frowned, taking his blurry glasses off. He rubbed the bridge of his wet nose, eyes closed. Holding his glasses tightly, he continued. "You always made me laugh, Nicky. And you talked a lot. I'm not complaining, though. I loved everything. Even if I had told you to shut up, or—or started an argument…I _loved_ it."

He stared longingly at the innocent figure before him in silence, trying to stop the constant flow of tears. Then Rod got up suddenly, his mind set. The tears stopped as well. He walked over to his old roommate and carefully took his hand. It felt so cold. With one swift motion, he placed an object in Nicky's opened palm, closing his friend's fingers around it for him. As Rod moved the green man's arm back to its original position, he leaned down close so his face was right next to Nicky's peaceful one and whispered something. Slowly, he leaned further down and pressed his lips to his best friend's.

Goodbye, Nicky.

I love you.

……

* * *

In Nicky's palm, as his coffin was being closed, ready to hide his body eternally, was a red fabric neatly rolled up into a ball. At the core of that ball was a dirty, crumpled piece of paper.

_Dearest Nicky,_

_If you are reading this letter, I am being very brave. I am probably not near you right now, and this is why. Please, please don't hate me._

_Nicholas, we've been friends for so long. And it's been great. But…will it last? After high school, we're off to college. Then, if by some miracle we are going to the same college, what about after that? We're best friends…but not lovers. You couldn't be so attached to me enough to still want to know me and be with me after all those years of meeting new people. You'd have met someone special to you. Although I do admit…I would love to be that person. The one you love and care about so much. If you ever wanted to live with me after college, I'd let you. We'd move somewhere nice. Heh, and I wouldn't even have you pay rent…_

_But I'm obviously just fantasizing. How could you possibly want to be with me for the rest of your life? We would have to part ways—I am dreading that moment. It's childish of me to dream we never have to say goodbye. But that's my wish._

_Okay, now for the shocker. I've written this letter more times than you could count. And after finishing each one and looking through it, I destroyed every attempt. I was too much of a coward. But not with this one. It's been so hard writing all this, knowing you would read it. But Nicky, you've got to know._

_I love you._

_Please don't hate me for this. I can't help it. I've fallen for you. Not just because you were my first and only friend. But because you're you. And I love you. I hope that you'll return my feelings someday, if not now. Rationally, you wouldn't. And I can't blame you. I'd still like us to know each other, though. Please don't be disgusted that I'm in love with you. (Funny how once I say it, I can't stop saying it. I love you.) Because chances are, if you're reading this, you'll never see me again. Why? I know you are not gay. I know you like women; I've seen you. So…if you're reading my confession, it means I still love you, but I decided to move on as well. Or you are. Why else would I summon enough courage to give you this? I knew I wouldn't have to see your reaction. And then I wouldn't hurt. If you think about it, I still am a coward._

_But I tried._

_Thank you, Nicky, for everything._

_I'm sorry._

_Goodbye._

* * *

'Cause now, I see that what I've always dreamed of was meant to be you and me, me and you.

Fantasies come true.

…

_End_

_Dot-dot-dot._

* * *

**Author's Notes: It's done. Last chapter. I honestly wanted all this to end at chapter one, but then people started reviewing. Anyway, Rod's grief is far beyond tears, even though he does break down a little at the end. Kinda like a numb, unrealistic feeling where he just wants to die. That's all he feels, now until the end of time Nicky is not there. Sorry, Rod, but I made Nicky die and it didn't seem fair. This whole thing isn't fair. Okay, sorry, for all this. Thanks to everyone who didn't go after me after reading whatever I wrote. And I also apologize for the long wait.**

**...**


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